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Valentine’s Day, Circa the Early 2000s--
“How can you eat those things?” Luke asks as he pours Lorelai more coffee.
Lorelai frowns down at the pattern of candy hearts she’s put around the remains of her stack of heart-shaped pancakes. (Yes, heart-shaped. No, it’s not a big deal. If it wasn’t easy to do, Luke wouldn’t do it. Besides, it’s a for-anybody-who-wants-something-that-stupid thing today. Not a Lorelai thing.) “What do you mean? It’s Valentine’s Day.”
“I know it’s Valentine’s Day. That doesn’t mean you have to be scarfing down Tums without the medicinal value. Tell whatever guy got you those to at least spring for chocolates.”
“There was no guy! I’ll have you know, I picked these up at Doose’s. Sisters are doing it for themselves, pal.”
“Then sisters should try harder.”
“They’re cute! And festive! Which are historically two of your favorite things, so frankly, this reaction feels very out of left field.” Lorelai rests her elbows on the counter and leans forward, grinning. “You know which color’s the best?”
“None. They all taste the same. Horrible.”
“They do not! The yellow ones and the white ones are a cut above.”
“Your taste buds should be committed.”
“They are, to identifying the complex tapestry of flavors offered within this one humble little box!” Lorelai shakes it like a rattle.
Luke pauses on his way to the kitchen to give her a look over his shoulder. “I meant more to a padded walls kind of situation.”
“Hmph. You’re lucky I have to get over to the inn. Otherwise, this conversation would not be over. In fact, this would turn into a candy heart taste-testing extravaganza, and you would have no choice but to admit my total rightness.”
“Come back tomorrow when candy’s fifty percent off. I’m happy to tell you how disgusting that crap is then.”
Lorelai beams. “It’s a date. Get ready to acknowledge the superiority of the yellow and white candy hearts, o ye of little faith.”
“Not likely,” Luke calls over his shoulder.
When he comes back out into the diner, plates of more heart-shaped pancakes and bacon in each hand, Lorelai’s gone. There are two candy hearts left on her near-empty plate. Luke stops to examine them: a white one that says U R SWEET and a yellow one that says BE MINE.
“Luke, is that divine pancakes-and-bacon aroma going to head our way anytime soon?” Miss Patty calls from across the diner.
“You’re a real tease, honey!” Babette adds.
“Hold your horses,” Luke orders.
When he gets back to the counter, he stares down at the little BE MINE . After a second, he pops it into his mouth, mostly to get rid of any dumb ideas forming in his brain.
“Augh!” he groans.
U R SWEET gets tucked into the pocket of his apron. There are some things Luke won’t subject himself to. Not even for Lorelai.
10-ish Years Later …
They’re in the middle of a late-night spring cleaning session at the diner. Luke is giving the oven a deep clean while Lorelai sorts through boxes of old junk in the storage room.
“Luke.” Lorelai comes into the kitchen. “Why do you have a candy heart in here?”
Luke turns from where he’s scrubbing the oven and sees her holding up an old half-apron. “What do you mean, a candy heart?”
“Delicious viscera ripped from the still-beating chest of Willy Wonka, of course.” Lorelai rolls her eyes and shows him the tiny white heart. “I found it in one of the pockets. A candy heart. U R SWEET. To be fair, it’s a nice self-esteem booster.”
“I dunno,” Luke says. “Probably just got picked up and then whoever was wearing it forgot to throw it out, and nobody’s used that apron for years. I didn’t even know it was still around here. I think I got new ones right after that. Do you remember when I got the new aprons?”
“No,” says Lorelai, “because I’m a glamorous, fascinating person who has more important things to pay attention to.”
“So, like, what, summer of 2001?”
“Spring 2002. Duh.”
“Right.” Luke gives her a look of irritated affection (basically his default expression at this point), then goes back to the oven-scrubbing.
“You know, I gave you a candy heart,” Lorelai says nonchalantly.
Luke knows this. There’s some small everyday stuff that sticks with you. “Did you?”
“I did. Years ago. Remember, we were fighting about me rightly loving them and you being a hater of joy who thinks they’re disgusting?”
“We’ve fought about a lot of stupid things you eat. Sorry if I don’t keep a list.”
“Do you remember what the other one said?”
Be Mine.
“Fax Me?” Luke suggests, glancing over at her.
“Yep,” Lorelai says, her eyes warm with affection. “That was definitely it.”
Luke gets up, deciding to take a break from the oven.
“I’m loving those rubber gloves on you, by the way,” Lorelai says as he takes them off. “Very Lady Gaga.”
“You know me. Avoiding chemical burns really informs my fashion choices.”
“See, that is the exact opposite of the essence of Lady Gaga.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“Ehh. I’ll get over it.”
Luke washes his hands to avoid Lorelai’s whole ‘the horror of hands that smell like plastic gloves’ ramble, then turns back to her. She’s still holding the candy heart.
“So you really wanted me to … fax you?” he says. “Even back then?”
“Maybe on some level,” Lorelai replies, her face getting sincere and sort of wistful, the way it always does when she talks about real feelings. “I think I was in a place where I could only say it with a candy heart.”
“So maybe they are good for something,” Luke allows.
She brightens. “Uh, they’re good for everything. What do you think I’ve been trying to tell you all these years?”
“Definitely not good for eating.”
“How could you possibly know that when you won’t even try one?” Lorelai waves the white candy heart in front of his face. “I promise, it’ll be so much better than you remember it being when you were a kid!”
“I didn’t eat them when I was a kid,” Luke says. “I wasn’t a big candy kid. I liked raisins. Mixed nuts.”
“Oh my God, you are abnormal. Here. It’s never too late to right a wrong--”
Luke swats her hand gently away. “I’m not eating that, it’s a decade old!”
“These don’t expire, Luke! That would require containing a single ingredient that can be found in nature!”
“So you admit they’re disgusting.”
“Things can be disgusting and incredible. Why do you think everyone is so excited about The Walking Dead? Or -- hey, your fashion icon Lady Gaga and that meat dress.”
“I ate one of the ones you gave me back then,” Luke confesses, sensing it’s the easiest way to stop her.
“Ha!” Lorelai hits his chest triumphantly. “Yes! And?”
“And it was horrible,” Luke says. “Like a banana and a piece of chalk made a suicide pact.”
“God. There’s no hope for you.” Lorelai finally surrenders, setting the candy heart aside, and comes in closer. “I can’t believe you’re the one I’m going to fax for all eternity.”
Luke puts his hands on her waist. “For all eternity, huh?”
“Absolutely,” Lorelai says, wrapping her arms around him. “I can’t let you loose on the world to torture some innocent woman with your hatred of seasonal sweets.”
“You’re a real humanitarian.”
“The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation’s got nothing on me, baby.”
They kiss for a while, the sort of leisurely embrace that comes with having nowhere to be except alone together in a place that’s theirs, before Lorelai lets out a contented little hum and says, “So this means you’re mine, right?”
“Since way before you left me the candy heart suggesting it,” Luke tells her.
“Oh good,” Lorelai says, her lips curving happily, “I hoped so.”